“The Party”


Into the thicket

Of polished ruthlessness

A collision with a savage blow

Of delusions

Balancing on the bloody blade of trends,

Sprouting an assortment

Of pre-approved ideas and images

From a struggling buffet

Of droll fabrication

Constructed with dementia

And fortified with clusters

Of shock-tactic deceptions,

Packaged in a bungling encumbrance

Of social bureaucracy

Set up for manipulation,

Entombed in the impressionable chest

Of odiferous conforming cubbies

Then paraded in a burlesque

Of blazing, sparking streams

Of burnished fervent ridicule

Broken open in a fusillade

Of screaming, unearthly chaotic tumult,

The whole affair an officious butchery

Of honesty and simplicity

Using the blunt butt

Of adjoining conversations

Propped by a vigorous cache

Of maxims

Misused and trite.


As I gaze in the mirror

I perceive it all

Reflected back in my form

And I am resigned

To being a captive

Of just such tools of human nature

And go forth

To mingle, happily haphazardly.








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